How?
My favorite candles and skincare products are stocked in quantities, as if someone knew exactly what I was using on a daily basis. Only my sister, Kiara, knows that kind of thing.
Did he ask her? I shake my head. No, that’s silly, but then, how could he know so much about my personal habits?
Closing the drawers, I wander back to the bedroom and spot my favorite magazines neatly stacked on my side of the bedside table. Glancing at the other bedside table, I only see a black notebook on it.
I realize at this instant that this isourroom.
Not mine.
My heart quickens at the realization.
I’ll talk to him and ask to take a guest bedroom. There’s no way I’m lying in the dark with a stranger. Watching the clock of the drawer, I notice I only have thirty minutes to get ready. Well, I’ll take my time, give him a taste of his own medicine. I’m not a woman to be ordered around and do as she’s told.
Once I’m freshened up and looking freaking good in one of my favorite burgundy strapless dresses, I walk back to the bedroom and flop onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress and staring at the ceiling. I sigh. This room is beautiful, but it's not where I belong. Remembering the reason why I'm here, I bite my lower lip.
I’m here because my father blackmailed me into it. It was either this or marrying Kiara to a dying Don of an Italian mafia, a man so old he needs assistance to eat and wash himself. I couldn’t do that to my seventeen-year-old sister. I’m sure my father could have found a way to settle his debt with Ares in a different way but he chose to offer me. As an object. A chess piece. Something you can give and take. And I had to agree to this, I had to say “yes” between gritted teeth as he was dangling Kiara’s threat over my head, my own mother completely unbothered by this fact. It's not usual for the Irish Mafia to make deals with MC Clubs but there were exceptions to the rule. And I was one of them.
Agreeing to this never meant to submit myself to this new husband I didn’t know anything of. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I'm startled from a knock at the door. I palm my cheeks, composing myself.
“Come in,” I say with confidence.
The door opens, and Ares steps in. He might me a jerk but he looks damn well in a tuxedo. A bit too well maybe, the suit clashing with his tattoos and huge muscles.
Aren't bikers supposed to be wearing jeans and T-shirts all the time?
“Like what you see, princess?” he says with a smug grin.
Oh, was I freaking drooling over him? God, Mia, get it together.
Placating a fake sarcastic smile on my face, I answer, “What made you think that we would sleep in the same bed tonight?” with a hand on my hips. Anger pulses through me when I see an amused grin appear on his face.
Is he mocking me?
“A wife should sleep in the same bed as her husband. That’s common sense, don’t you think so?” Oh, I see how it’sgonna be. Mr Alpha male has never been told no? Well, there’s a first time for everything.
“Are you too insecure that you have to trap a woman into a fake marriage to finally get your way? Or is it too hard for your tiny ego to be told no?” I fire back. I'm not always like that, especially at home…but when my parents aren't there to humiliate me or gaslight me, I'm all sass and confidence.
"Oh Mia, Mia…” Ares walks slowly toward me like a lion. “Don’t change anything, I like my women feisty, especially my wife.” He smirks.
I scoff, crossing my arms. “I’m not your wife, Ares.” He stops in front of me, his towering frame casting a shadow over mine.
“Youaremy wife, Mia. Whether you like it or not.” I meet his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down.
“I didn’t agree to this. You know damn well that I didn’t get a say in that.” His eyes narrow, a flicker of annoyance passing over his features.
“It doesn’t matter what you want. This is how it’s going to be.” I grit my teeth, anger boiling inside me.
“I refuse to sleep in the same bed as you.” I narrow my eyes at him, standing my ground. "I'd rather sleep on the floor in the hallway than here with you." His jaw clenches hard, and a fire of possessiveness dances in his eyes.
"If you do that, Mia," he says, his voice low and menacing, "I'll pick you up in the dead of night and carry you back to our bed myself. Every. Single. Fucking. Night.” His words hung in the air like a warning, sending shivers down my spine. I swallow hard, suddenly feeling a pang of uncertainty and reminding myself who this man is.
Could he be bluffing?
He's the president of the Ravens Sons, not the average Joe. God knows what he is capable of. Ares's expression softenedjust a fraction, his eyes searching mine as if he could hear my mind.
"You look…” Stopping midway in his sentence, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Get downstairs. The guests should be there any minute.” His voice is colder than a few seconds ago.
